His selfish dignity could not stoop to such childishness.
The young bride passed the evening with no companionship but her tears.

When Leslie came home, and looked upon her sober face, he was not struck with its aspect as being unusual.

It did not enter his imagination that she could be otherwise than happy.

Was she not _his_ wife?
And had she not, around her, every thing to make the heart satisfied?
He verily believed that she had.

He spoke to her kindly, yet, as she felt, indifferently, while her heart was pining for words of warm affection.
This was the first shadow that fell, darkly, across the young wife's path.